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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924560">high heels off, i’m feeling alive</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/katplanet/pseuds/katplanet'>katplanet</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>sleep to the freezing [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Umbrella Academy (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anal Sex, Fun with Gender, Hair Pulling, Klaus’s Extensive Wardrobe, M/M, Non-Binary Klaus Hargreeves, Rough Sex, Sex Where They’re Not Actively Holding Hands, but rough by Dave’s metric so it’s more like, can stand alone, muffing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:55:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26924560</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/katplanet/pseuds/katplanet</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave kisses Klaus, just because he can. He has to tilt his chin up a bit to do it, which means Klaus has a whole outfit put together, heels and all. Dave is almost going to feel bad taking it off him.</p><p>“Okay.” He lets go of Klaus’s waist and sits down on his empty vanity chair, lets Klaus step away from him, and-</p><p>Dave should probably be used to this by now. Maybe not <i>used</i> to it, there’s no getting <i>used</i> to Klaus, but he should at least have some tolerance built up. He should be able to look at Klaus and think coherent thoughts at the same time.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>sleep to the freezing [7]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1327031</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>high heels off, i’m feeling alive</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>technically part of a series, but all you need to know is that ghost bodies are extensions of their minds so they can only experience physical sensations that they felt when they were alive. that's my Lore and i'm sticking to it</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Dave,” Klaus calls from the bedroom, “can you help me reach something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave has </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> an inch on Klaus, and that’s with socks on. “What are you trying to get?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My prostate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben groans and covers his face with his book.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay,” Dave yells, hoisting himself up off the couch, “coming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you will be, hot stuff.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe you let these things work on you,” Ben says from the other side of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fun Home</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Listen, I have to meet him where he’s at.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ben flaps a hand at Dave and grabs his headphones off the coffee table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as he’s in view of their bedroom door, Dave spots the pile of clothes on their floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a good thing he and Ben don’t need tangible outfits, because Klaus’s wardrobe takes up the whole of their closet and still spills out into drawers and cabinets in every room of the apartment. It’s nearly all thrifted, save a few high-profile donations from Allison, and it runs the style gamut, suits to dresses, ripped jeans to embroidered silk. Klaus reaches into his row of hangers every morning like an oracle and pulls out the first thing he finds, slips it on and swans through the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If there’s a pile of discarded options, though, it means Klaus has gotten a goal into his head. Which means Dave starts walking a little faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus is perched at his vanity when Dave finds him, flicking liner up from the corners of his eyes. He’s already done something to his eyelids, smoked them out dark, and his lips have an extra shine at the center. He looks beautiful - he always looks beautiful, gorgeous, handsome, every other adjective that exists for someone like him, but this is a particular kind of beauty that he only rarely indulges in, a mood that Dave has learned to recognize for what it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shuts the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, baby,” Klaus says, “you got a minute?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got all kinds of minutes.” Dave comes up behind Klaus and wraps his arms around his shoulders, looks at his face in his vanity mirror, glowing under his makeup lights. “You look incredible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus turns his head to kiss Dave’s cheek. Dave watches him do it in the mirror, the sharp line of his jaw, the blush on his cheekbone. The way they look together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you done?” Dave asks him. “Or should I give you your arms back?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’m done.” Klaus spins in his chair to kiss Dave properly, and Dave shuts his eyes, lets Klaus’s soft mouth take him over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Special occasion?” Dave asks him, once they break apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus shrugs, tucks a ringlet of brown curls behind his ear. “Not really. Felt fancy, you know how it is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, let me see you, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With all his staring at Klaus’s face, Dave hasn’t even registered what he’s wearing. It's red, but that's all he's got. Klaus gets up, and when Dave puts his hands on his waist, his palms slip on smooth fabric. He slides his hands down over the give and flare of a skirt, something with volume sewn into it. Nothing he recognizes from feel alone, but that's not surprising. Klaus has a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> of clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you want to look at me, you have to actually stand back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave kisses Klaus again, just because he can. He has to tilt his chin up a bit to do it, which means Klaus has a whole outfit put together, heels and all. Dave is almost going to feel bad taking it off him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He lets go of Klaus’s waist and sits down on his empty vanity chair, lets Klaus step away from him, and-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave should probably be used to this by now. Maybe not </span>
  <em>
    <span>used</span>
  </em>
  <span> to it, there’s no getting </span>
  <em>
    <span>used</span>
  </em>
  <span> to Klaus, but he should at least have some tolerance built up. He should be able to look at Klaus and think coherent thoughts at the same time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus is wearing a red dress, nipped in at his waist with a full, swinging skirt down to his knees. His arms are bare, little cap sleeves over his shoulders. The hems are all sharp, clean, no frills or trim, but the collar scoops into a twist of fabric just below the dip between his collarbones. It draws Dave’s eye right to his neck, the smooth curve of it, the faint mark where he’d worked a kiss into Klaus’s skin a few days ago. It's not a revealing dress, not like some of the other ones Klaus wears, but it's … provocative. Challenging. It makes Dave glad he's allowed to stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus doesn’t look like a woman in it; from what he's told Dave, quiet conversations in warm afterglows, that’s not his goal. He doesn’t look like a man, either. He looks like himself, like Dave’s beautiful lover, a kite neatly clipped from its string and free to drift wherever it wants to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Verdict?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave nods, opens his mouth, shuts it again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus laughs, does a twirl so that the dress pinwheels out around him. Dave looks down in time to catch the red soles of Klaus’s white heels.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look so,” Dave starts, and then gets distracted watching Klaus’s skirt swish and settle around his thighs after he stops spinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus walks back toward Dave, swings his hips. “I look so?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Radiant,” Dave says, because it’s true.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus puts one knee up on the seat of the chair next to Dave’s thigh, props his forearms on Dave’s shoulders. “Thanks, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this new?” Dave asks, running a hand over Klaus’s waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s a fashion student in my discussion section this semester. I modeled for her portfolio, and she let me keep the dress.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bespoke, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I made sure she was good before I agreed to it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, give her my compliments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she’ll love that. Rave boyfriend reviews.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave lets the idea of Klaus talking to strangers about him, calling him </span>
  <em>
    <span>my boyfriend</span>
  </em>
  <span> with that smile on his face, be novel for a moment. And then he trails his hand down to Klaus’s thigh, smooths over the fabric there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s pretty high praise, right?” Klaus runs his fingers through Dave’s curls. “‘Your design got me laid?’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Putting the cart before the horse, there, aren't you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus scoffs, reaches down and tugs his skirt high enough up his thigh to show the top of his stocking, the delicate garter clips on either side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dave says, “point taken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus flips his hem into place again and leans in to kiss Dave, cups Dave’s jaw in his hands and tilts his head back until he’s arching into Klaus’s mouth. Dave runs his hand up Klaus’s other leg, the one he’s standing on, slips under his skirt and hooks his thumb into his stocking. Tugs down, enough to pull the band snug into Klaus’s thigh, and lets it snap back. Swallows Klaus’s noise and slides higher, runs his fingers along Klaus’s bare skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby,” Klaus sighs between kisses. “I want you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave pulls back and nuzzles into Klaus’s neck. “Let me take you to bed, sweetheart.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus takes both of Dave's hands in his and pulls him up off the vanity chair and into his arms. And then he brings Dave's right hand around to sit low on his back, links fingers with his left hand, sways in his hold.
</span></p><p>
  <span>"You've gotta dance with me, first," he says, pressing his cheek to Dave's jaw. "There's an order to these things."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing's on the record player, and Dave sure as hell isn't letting go of Klaus long enough for either of them to pick something out. So he moves to the rhythm of Klaus’s breathing, listens to the shuffle of their feet on the floor. Klaus sighs and wraps his arms around Dave's shoulders, and Dave pulls him close enough that he can feel his heartbeat against his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've gotta take you out, sometime," Dave tells him. "I bet you could make me solid for an hour of dancing. I could show you off."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus smiles at that. Dave can feel it against his neck. "I know a few places where people wouldn't look twice. Well, they would, but in a good way."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's a date."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A date," Klaus repeats. "With my ghost boyfriend."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm still hung up on the 'date with my boyfriend' part, if I'm being honest."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Told you you'd like the future."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave kisses Klaus's cheek. "You were right."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sometimes I am."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave leads Klaus around the room a few more times. He catches their reflection in the vanity, once, Klaus in his beautiful dress, Dave in sweatpants and a t-shirt. They should clash more than they do. And then Klaus kisses him, and Dave shuts his eyes and runs his tongue along Klaus's lower lip, and remembers, of course they don't look strange together. They match perfectly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay," Klaus says, sliding his arms down so his palms rest on Dave's pecs, "let's say you've wined and dined me, yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You sure? I can go make you some ramen or something."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"With love, please don't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave lets his </span>
  <em>
    <span>I was a good cook in the ‘50s </span>
  </em>
  <span>protest stop before it starts and ducks down to kiss Klaus's neck instead, right above that lovely twist of fabric. Klaus tilts his head back, so Dave lingers, skates his teeth over Klaus's skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You should take my dress off for me," Klaus says. "The zipper is such a pain to reach on my own."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean, if you insist."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus laughs and turns around, pulls his hair away from his neck so that Dave can unhook the clasp at the neckline and start to pull the tab down. It reveals inches of smooth olive skin, and then - then inches of lace, the same rich chocolate brown as Klaus's curls, as his eye makeup.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave runs his fingers between the open teeth of the zipper, and Klaus peers over his shoulder, a coy little smile on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They work together to get the dress off after that, Klaus shimmying it down past his hips and stepping out of it so Dave can scoop it off the floor and drape it over the vanity chair. Underneath, Klaus is wearing a camisole, split up the front in a triangle that shows his stomach, the dip between his ribs. Below that, a garter belt and underwear made of the same floral lace, two smooth nude stockings hooked to the garter straps. His heels push his legs up, make them even more impossibly long than they already are on their own.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I didn't model these for anyone's portfolio."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe you should," Dave says, which makes Klaus laugh again, delighted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lingerie is built to guide the eye to Klaus's narrow waist, the slight flare of his hip bones. The cut of skin at the center of the camisole gets wider the closer it gets to his pelvis, and it makes Dave think of the smooth swell of a flower vase, or a drop of water about to fall. Things Dave could cup his palms around. Curved things.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once Dave goes from staring to touching, he can't stop. He runs his hands all over Klaus's body, every lace-covered inch of him, drags the material across Klaus's skin until Klaus is melting into him. He finds his way down to the backs of Klaus's thighs, eventually, and Klaus flings his arms around Dave's neck so he can scoop him up and carry him over to their bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave deposits Klaus on his back, and he makes a happy </span>
  <em>
    <span>oof</span>
  </em>
  <span> sound, sprawls himself out over the duvet. He lifts his feet one at a time to let Dave slip his heels off, and Dave makes as much of a show of it as he can, slides his hands all the way down from Klaus's knees to his ankles before he pulls each shoe off its foot. He deposits them beside the bed, careful not to scuff them anywhere, and then sheds his own clothes as fast as possible while Klaus grins at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is this my striptease?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave pulls his boxers off and kicks them into the ether somewhere. "Yep. How'd I do?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm giving you points for efficiency, docking you for … utilitarian-ness."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave climbs onto the mattress and between Klaus's legs, which Klaus spreads to give him room. "So, what, five out of ten?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Six, but only 'cause you're pretty."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave used to be able to count on one hand the number of times he'd had Klaus like this, undressed underneath him, smiling up from between Dave's forearms braced on either side of his head. He's lost track by now, but it hasn't stopped stunning him every time it happens. Klaus's eyes look so big from this angle, so bright. Dave can see all the flecks of colors hiding in them. Like jewels, or glass jars, or how Dave used to imagine the water in Eden when he was young: clear, but full of living things, which are green.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>You're</span>
  </em>
  <span> pretty," he tells Klaus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Two pretty people," Klaus says. "Lucky us."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave leans in and kisses Klaus into the mattress, presses Klaus down with his weight the way he likes. Klaus sighs into it and rubs his hands over Dave's back. He feels </span>
  <em>
    <span>alive</span>
  </em>
  <span> under Dave, all the unconscious movements that bodies make, vulnerable and warm. Dave could be cold in the ground for a thousand years and never forget how warm Klaus’s body is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got plans for you, baby,” Klaus murmurs against Dave’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave smiles, can’t not smile. “Yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mm. Sit up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave does, and Klaus steers him until he’s knelt with his back against their headboard, sitting on his feet. Klaus will end up on his lap, they’ve done it like this plenty of times before, but when Klaus tries to turn, get in position, Dave stops him with a hand on his hip.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>”Let me,” Dave says, and then he reaches up and untucks Klaus’s hair from behind his ears, lets it fall in wild curls around his face. Runs his fingertips over Klaus’s cheek and down along his jaw. He makes it to his chin, and Klaus tilts it up, eyes on Dave the whole time, lips curling at the corners.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus doesn’t seem to mind indulging him, so Dave traces down the tendons of his neck, along the sharp peak of his collarbone. He reaches the strap of the camisole and pulls it along with him, slips it down over the round of Klaus’s shoulder, and Klaus lets his breath out shaky, angles his head away to show off the curve of his throat. Dave leans forward and kisses him there, cups his palm below his mouth and holds Klaus still while he nips color into his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he pulls away and puts the camisole strap back where he found it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dave says, “come here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus has never asked Dave to treat him like a girl. Dave wouldn't even know where to begin with that - he'd thought during his life, and thinks even more vehemently during whatever this thing is that he's doing now, that there's not much he'd do with a girl that he wouldn't do with a guy, and vice versa. It didn't seem fair, reserving certain behavior for certain people. And Klaus agrees, of course he does - Klaus knocks down those flimsy barriers like a hurricane and laughs at the wreckage he leaves behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Klaus did ask Dave for something. He'd done it a long time ago, in the way he used to ask Dave for things, before he'd started to really internalize that Dave would give him anything, everything. Brazen and overconfident, like it was a joke, like he didn't care either way, Klaus had asked Dave to treat his body like a different body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What Klaus had actually said verbatim was, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sometimes I just want it fucked like a cunt, you know?</span>
  </em>
  <span> And Dave had managed to communicate via a lot of awestruck swearing that while he didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the sense of personal experience, he could probably extrapolate enough to give Klaus what he needed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d done a good job, that first time, all things considered. He’s gotten even better with practice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus settles into Dave’s lap, knees bent on the mattress, his back pressed to Dave’s chest, thighs spread on either side of Dave’s legs. Dave fans his hands out over Klaus’s belly, the patch of soft bare skin peeking out through all the lace, and Klaus tilts his head onto Dave’s shoulder. He’s solid in Dave’s arms, relaxed, trusting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what you want, darlin’,” Dave says, mouth brushing the new mark blooming on Klaus’s neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus stretches, curves his spine. “Wanna ride you like this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave runs one hand up to Klaus’s chest, cups it under his pec, smooths his thumb over Klaus’s nipple through the lace. Klaus presses into the touch, and Dave gives him more, careful brushes that get Klaus moaning into Dave’s ear. He’s so sensitive, so needy for it. He pushes into Dave’s hold like - like there’s a handful for Dave there, and it’s not hard for Dave to read into it, go along with it. Give Klaus something to work with while he feels whatever he's feeling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave doesn't really like to talk dirty about the particulars of Klaus's body, especially on nights like this. It feels … theatrical, somehow, to guess what's going on in Klaus's head right now and say it out loud. Like a performance </span>
  <em>
    <span>about</span>
  </em>
  <span> Klaus instead of </span>
  <em>
    <span>with</span>
  </em>
  <span> him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Dave can communicate with his hands just fine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He brings his other hand up to Klaus's chest, works both nipples with his thumbs. He massages the tips of his fingers into the dip of Klaus's sternum, and Klaus arches into it, puts both his arms over his head and links his hands around the back of Dave's neck. He's breathing heavy, rocking into Dave's lap, and as much as Dave tries to keep these nights all about Klaus, that's - that's really nice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"My sweetheart." He kisses Klaus's throat, right behind the hinge of his jaw, the delicate place where his pulse is closest to the surface. He tilts his hips up to meet Klaus, says, "You feel what you do to me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus nods, his curls brushing Dave's cheek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can I touch you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nods again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave slides one palm back down Klaus's belly, cups him through the thin fabric of his underwear. He's halfway to hard just from Dave's hands, from the way Dave is holding him. Dave squeezes, gives Klaus pressure to push into, and Klaus tangles his fingers in Dave's hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So pretty," Dave says, and Klaus hums, moves in waves between Dave's lap and his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stay like that until Klaus's lace is damp where he thrusts into Dave's palm. His noises have gone breathy, soft. Dave runs his free hand over Klaus's chest, pushes all the lace around so Klaus can feel it rough across his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You wanna finish like this?" Dave asks him. "Or do you want me to fuck you first?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus tilts his head enough to kiss Dave's lips, a little off-center and so, so sweet. "Need you," and he brings a hand down to Dave's thigh, trails his fingertips over his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'Course, honey."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shifts his hips, slots himself between Klaus's cheeks, rubbing up against the lace there. He can just barely catch the smooth base of the plug Klaus has inside himself, keeping him slick and open, so Dave will be able to sink right into him like-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're so ready for me," Dave says, his lips brushing Klaus's ear. "I can feel it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And it's worth toeing the line of his own body talk rule to hear the sound Klaus makes at that, high and hoarse. He grinds into Dave, which must move the plug inside him, because he grabs onto Dave's thighs and does it again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You wanna take these off?" Dave asks him, tugging on the waistband of Klaus's underwear, making him gasp. "You're gonna ruin them if you don't."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just-" Klaus reaches between them and pushes the lace aside, plenty of room left over for Dave to work with, which Dave had suspected (hoped) was Klaus's plan all along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave slips a hand down, too. Klaus hums when he feels Dave's fingers, arches his back and leans forward so Dave has space to look. Dave takes hold of the base and eases the plug out partway, just for the rush he still gets seeing Klaus's body take it, holy shit, sex in the future is </span>
  <em>
    <span>amazing</span>
  </em>
  <span> - then pushes it back in, twists it to make Klaus shudder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'mon." Klaus leans forward even farther, practically on his hands and knees. "I'm ready, baby."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've got you." Dave smooths his free hand up Klaus's back, under his camisole, and works the plug out of him in little rocking motions, Klaus making soft sounds like he physically can't hold them in. He tosses it off somewhere in the sheets to be a problem for later, already focused on guiding Klaus up and into his lap again, back tight to his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Now," Klaus is saying, "now, baby, come on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>please-</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Breathe for me," Dave says, one arm around Klaus's waist to hold him steady, the other hand cupped between his legs for him to push into. "I'm right here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus makes another of those sweet soft sounds, low in his throat but still airy, breathless, and it's not - it's not that Klaus feeling feminine makes Dave want to treat him like he's delicate, or fragile, or some other awful stereotype. It's that Klaus is giving him something, trusting him, letting him in, and that means that Klaus is vulnerable. A vulnerable Klaus wrapped up in his arms does something to Dave. Makes him want to move slowly, touch deliberately. Like anything less calculated will break the spell, or scare Klaus off, or hurt him. Like Klaus isn't literally begging for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave wants to do this </span>
  <em>
    <span>right</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's your color, sweetheart?" he asks him, because it doesn't always get to that point when Klaus dresses up, but with the noises Klaus is making tonight, the death grip he has on Dave's forearm, well. Better safe than sorry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus rolls his head back onto Dave's shoulder, smiles at him, crinkles his eyes. "Green, pretty baby. You good?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah. Am I - is this what you need?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's perfect."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Touching you is okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mm. Like you've been doing."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave trails his lips along Klaus's jaw. "Like this?" and he presses down with his palm, thumbs at the wet underside of the head of Klaus's dick through the lace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Klaus sighs, "you're so good to me, baby."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're the one getting all dolled up for me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Dave knows it's not for him, or at least not </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> for him, but Klaus preens with the praise, plays with the hem of his camisole and lifts it up a tiny bit higher on his belly. Shows off Dave's favorite of his tattoos.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love seeing you like this." Dave rocks his hips up, slow, rhythmic. "You're beautiful, Klaus."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus reaches between them and gets Dave in his hand, drags his palm over him, tip to root to tip. He lifts up off Dave's lap, angles Dave so that he can sink down onto him, easy and earthshattering, until his weight is back on Dave's thighs. It's incredible, it always is, every time like the first time, and not just because Dave is an afterimage of himself and feels everything through the filmy lens of memory. He could have lived to 80 and fucked Klaus every single day and it would still be a revelation, being inside him, as close as humanly possible to this man he loves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave wraps his arm even tighter around Klaus's waist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They set a lazy pace together - it's the only option with how they're arranged, Klaus pushing backwards, Dave rocking up to meet him. It's going to kill Klaus's thighs, he'll complain about it tomorrow, but more importantly, it gives Dave full access to the front of him, lets him look down over his shoulder at the way the dark lace of his lingerie contrasts with his skin. He keeps one hand between Klaus's legs and brings the other back up to his chest, touching him through the fabric, dragging the lace across his nipples. Klaus makes all his sweet sounds into the curve of Dave's neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Feels good?" Dave asks him, and Klaus bites his lip and nods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave buries his nose in Klaus’s hair and goes back to the slick skin on the other side of Klaus’s underwear, rubbing circles into him the way he’d rub a clit. Dave tried it on himself once, and it was nice, sure, but not as nice as it seems to be for Klaus. Klaus, with his perfect mastery of his own pleasure, who knows more ways to feel good than Dave ever imagined were possible. And if this is the way Klaus wants it, if this kind of touch matches the way Klaus fits in his body tonight, Dave is going to do it with relish.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus’s thighs start shaking around the time he really starts leaking under Dave’s fingers. He switches to grinding his hips back and forth in Dave’s lap, working his muscles around Dave inside him. Dave kisses down his throat, and Klaus huffs, tries and fails to get some leverage back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Baby,” he mumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s Dave’s cue. He quits feeling Klaus up and gets a tight hold on him, one arm around his chest, the other low on his waist. He leans them both forward, lays Klaus out with his shoulders on the bed, his hips still in Dave’s lap. It lets Dave brace his own weight on his calves and lift up until Klaus gets his knees underneath himself, his back dipped in a long curve from Dave to the mattress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus sighs and shuffles his arms up to fold under his head. He puts his cheek on his wrist and looks up at Dave over his shoulder, his eye makeup already smudged, his curls tumbling down onto the sheets. He smiles, arches even deeper, the hem of his camisole sliding another inch up his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good view?” he asks, and he wiggles his hips, rocks himself onto Dave, which is - a very good view, wow, yes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave puts his hands on Klaus’s waist to hold him in place. He pulls out and sinks back in, watches the whole time, because as good as it looks when it’s a plug, it looks even better when it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the unbelievable intimacy of Klaus welcoming him into his body like this. Right next to the lace still around his hips, the garter straps pressing into his skin. It’s all so-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pretty,” Dave says out loud, sounding like his brain is short-circuiting, because it is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus giggles, and Dave has to take a second, lean down and kiss Klaus’s lips, the hint of gloss still on them. The angle is awkward, but Klaus hums into it, and Dave can feel him smiling against his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can be a little rough, if you want,” Klaus says, once Dave pulls away. “You don’t have to. But it sounds nice.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that you asking me to be a little rough?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus laughs again. He sounds like sunshine. “Got me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's not unexpected. Sometimes when he dresses up - not every time, but sometimes - Klaus likes it a little rough. Likes to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>handled.</span>
  </em>
  <span> To give up control, make himself malleable. Get all pretty and then let Dave mess it up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Dave ... isn’t exactly a natural at rough, which is something he knows about himself without Klaus having to tell him. Back in the early days, that literal other lifetime when they were first figuring each other out, Klaus had needed to reassure him more than once that yes, he wanted Dave to hold him tighter, fuck him harder, take pleasure without worrying whether or not he was giving it back. That Klaus wouldn't ask for it if he didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. The challenge of pushing his body, the satisfaction that came with the ache after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No matter what, Dave’s version of rough will never hold a candle to the stories Klaus has told him about the adventures he had when he was younger. But Klaus says it’s all relative, that the part he's always liked most is feeling the other person let go and take what they need, knowing he's giving it to them. Like he's so good, they want him so badly, that they can't keep hold of the reins on themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With Klaus spread out underneath him, pressing up into him, asking for what he needs, letting himself be vulnerable - it's not hard for Dave to loosen his grip, just a bit. It's easy. It's natural.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He puts one hand on the small of Klaus's back, fingers fanned out over the bare skin between the hems of his camisole and his garter belt. Klaus shuts his eyes and presses his lips into the meat of his bicep, sinks even further into his arch under Dave's palm. Dave leans forward and tangles his other hand in Klaus's hair, balances his weight between his hands and his legs to keep Klaus pinned where he is.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he rolls his hips, slow to start, building up to faster, deeper, driving down to make sure he's hitting Klaus at the right angle. Klaus bites into his arm and white-knuckles the sheets, and he goes tight around Dave, tilting his hips to get Dave where he needs him. Dave would be driving Klaus up the mattress if he wasn't holding him in place. He can feel the force every time he snaps into him, the jolt he has to counterbalance with his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus quits biting himself to gasp out, "Yeah, baby, like that," and Dave can see the ring of indents where his teeth had been.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave gathers Klaus's hair in his fist, and when Klaus tries to get his arm in his mouth again, Dave pulls his head away. Klaus whines with it, the exact kind of noise he'd been trying to muffle into his skin. He tugs against Dave's grip, so Dave tugs back, and Klaus sags his weight down onto his shoulders, goes pliant in Dave's arms and lets Dave fuck a string of sweet noises out of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he's - he's so </span>
  <em>
    <span>beautiful,</span>
  </em>
  <span> giving himself over, trusting Dave to take care of him, to figure out what he needs before he even knows, himself. It's heady, that trust. Dave's never felt anything like it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus has stopped fighting Dave's hold on his hair, so Dave pulls harder, lifts Klaus's head up off his forearms until he's dragging him back by a fistful of curls to meet every thrust. It can't be comfortable for Klaus, but - that's the idea, isn't it? And Klaus shoves one of his hands between his legs, his muscles flexing as he starts rubbing harsh circles into himself, so Dave's doing something right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm-" Klaus cuts himself off with a moan, bites his lip and lets it pop out from between his teeth. His gloss has all disappeared. The swollen red looks even better. "I'm close, baby."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You want it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus manages to nod once before Dave tightens his hold on his hair. "Yeah, c'mon, do it like you mean it-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave shoves Klaus face-first into the sheets. And he panics for a split second, maybe that was too harsh, too mean, and then Klaus </span>
  <em>
    <span>sobs</span>
  </em>
  <span> in pleasure, his thighs going so trembly that Dave has to get his free arm around his waist to keep him from falling onto his stomach. Klaus throws out the hand he was using to touch himself, braces himself on the duvet, and Dave pulls Klaus's hips farther up into his lap and drives into him as hard and fast as he can. Keeps it up as Klaus comes, his toes flexing in his stockings, body vising in around Dave with every desperate wave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't stop," Klaus begs, voice muffled, "oh god, baby," so Dave doesn't stop, fucks Klaus until he goes limp. He rolls his hips a few more times after that, too, and Klaus whimpers and tries to spread his legs even farther apart than they already are.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"C'mere," Dave says, and he pulls out, steers Klaus up until he's lying on his back, head on their pillow. Klaus reaches for him and makes grabby hands, so Dave crawls up to cuddle him. He kisses him, says, "You did so well," lips brushing his cheek, "so sweet for me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You fucked all the saltiness out," Klaus says, his words slurring together in a way that's pretty flattering if Dave's being honest, and he's already getting a hand between his legs again, folding his palm over himself and working his hips in lazy circles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave runs his fingertips down Klaus's arm. "Keep going?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus nods and turns his head into a kiss, and Dave brings his hand up to Klaus's chest again. He reaches under the neckline of the camisole this time, pinches Klaus's nipple before spreading his palm out over the rest of his pec and massaging at the tiny bit of padding there. Not much to work with, even with a roof and predictable access to food, but it makes Klaus moan into Dave's mouth and rock his hips harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave touches him like that, cups him and rubs him, until Klaus shoves his hand inside his underwear instead of over it. He's still not stroking, just giving himself pressure, but the image of his hand disappearing into the lace, the intimate knowledge of what it's doing there-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you want those off, now?" Dave asks him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus nods again, so Dave gets back up on his knees, moves to sit between Klaus's legs. He kisses the inside of Klaus's thigh, above the top of his stocking, and keeps doing it while he unhooks both garter clips. He switches to the other leg and does the same thing, watches Klaus squeeze himself behind a thin layer of lace out of the corner of his eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Garters unclipped, Dave sits back up and touches Klaus's wrist where the hem of Klaus's underwear stretches across it. Klaus pulls his hand back out and rests it low on his stomach, the tip of his pinky still brushing over lace. Dave leans down and kisses Klaus's knuckles - an odd impulse, maybe, but Klaus has lovely hands, long fingers and sharp tendons, and Dave likes to kiss them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he hooks his fingers into Klaus's underwear and tugs them down, and since his mouth is already in the area, it makes sense to press a kiss to the head of Klaus's dick, and to the soft skin at the base of his shaft.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," Klaus sighs. "Hey there."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave smiles up at him. "Hi. Hips up, sweetheart."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus does as he's told. Dave slips his underwear down past the swell of his ass, gets them halfway down his thighs before he has to sit back up. Klaus still has one hand on his stomach, and the other one is flitting around his chest, fingers brushing over himself through the lace. He's a vision. Dave could never have dreamed him up in a million years, which is how he knows he's real.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Legs," Dave says, which comes out a little more breathless than he'd expected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus smiles at his voice, sly and pleased, and lifts his legs high enough for Dave to slip his underwear the rest of the way off, which he does. They're also lifted high enough for Dave to get a good look between them. Dave is probably blushing, which is stupid, ghosts shouldn't have to worry about things like blushing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not getting shy on me, are you?" Klaus asks, and Dave drags his eyes back up to his face, his big pretty grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not even close. Give me a sec."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave guides Klaus's legs back down to the bed while Klaus watches, brows furrowed. He smooths his hands up both of Klaus's stockings, ankle to thigh, runs his palms over miles of long legs to make sure the fabric is sitting where it should. And then he clips Klaus's garters back in place, one at a time, careful not to start any runs with the teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It takes some concentration to get it perfect, so Dave isn't actually paying attention to the look on Klaus's face until he's finished. His grin is gone, replaced with something not unlike the face he gets when Dave tries to make breakfast. Stunned, fond, and slightly terrified. Like he's not sure how he's supposed to react, but he knows how he wants to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks," is what he says, looking from Dave's hands on his garter clip up to Dave's face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure," Dave says. "Unless you want these off, too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," Klaus says. "No, um. Definitely on."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looks at Klaus's gorgeous body laid out for him. He could fuck him some more, Klaus would probably love it. But Dave is already down here, knelt between Klaus's thighs, and he could just. Stay put, for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm gonna touch you. Yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus bends his knees, spreads his thighs. "Yeah, baby. ‘Course."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels kind of like putting together a jigsaw puzzle, arranging his hands, finding the angles that'll let him get the leverage he needs. It would have been even harder when he was alive, when his wrists could still get sore, but hell, he'll take all the perks to being dead that he can. And if that includes fingering Klaus indefinitely, all the better.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave slips two fingers back inside Klaus first, curls them up a few times, watches Klaus shut his eyes and sigh. He presses the thumb of that hand to the soft skin of Klaus's perineum, gets a good hold there before he moves up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus had needed to walk Dave through this next thing the first few times, but Dave can do it himself now. He uses his index finger, finds the right angle to gently, gently push against Klaus's body through his sac. He nudges the little ring of resistance he finds just to the left of the base of his cock, and then slightly past it, slightly </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> - something Dave absolutely couldn't fathom feeling anything other than uncomfortable until the first time he saw Klaus do it to himself, his breath stunned out of him like he'd been felled by his own sex wizardry. This is one thing Dave hasn't tried on his own body; he never did it when he was alive, didn't even know it was possible, so he wouldn't have any frame of reference to feel it now. But he takes Klaus's word for it. How can he not, when Klaus responds to it the way he does?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh," Klaus breathes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Too much?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"God. Don't you dare stop."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave ducks down and kisses Klaus's belly, right above where his garter belt sits off-center around his waist. He rocks his finger out and in, as careful as he knows how to be with another person, and Klaus fumbles a hand down to tangle in Dave's hair, twirling his nails around in circles through his curls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're beautiful," Dave tells him again. He’s told him so many times. He’ll tell him so many more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus shudders underneath him, but he holds still, otherwise. Lets Dave work him over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave finds a rhythm, rocks his fingers in and out of Klaus in alternating pushes, keeps pressure with his thumb. Klaus tightens his grip in Dave's hair but stays pliant, sweet under Dave's hands. He's hard, leaking onto his hip, and it might run the risk of turning into the wrong kind of overwhelming, but right now Dave wants to put his mouth on Klaus more than he's ever wanted anything else in either his natural life or what came after. So he does, leans down and fits his lips against the underside of Klaus's head, tongues the delicate skin there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh my god," Klaus says, "Dave, holy shit."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave tries to pull back, ask if everything is still okay, but Klaus pushes his head down, which is a good enough answer for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's all very technical, coordinated: in with two fingers curled up, out, in with one curled to the side, out, pressure with his thumb, suction with his lips, fluttering patterns with the tip of his tongue. But it also feels like creating something, stacking sensation on sensation until Klaus has to dig his heels into the mattress to keep his legs from kicking out, his skin slick everywhere it touches Dave, his voice gone hoarse from overuse when he says Dave's name, calls him </span>
  <em>
    <span>baby</span>
  </em>
  <span>, asks him </span>
  <em>
    <span>please.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looks up through his lashes when Klaus says please. His makeup is a mess, smudged everywhere. Debauched. The hand not in Dave's hair is hovering over Klaus's own chest, like he'd gotten too distracted to keep touching himself there. His curls cling to his forehead, his neck, damp and frizzy with sweat. His eyes are open in slits, like he's having to fight for even that, and they're dark when they meet Dave's.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fuck," Klaus says, "oh, god, I love you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave's mouth is too busy to say it back, so he tries to show it, instead. Moves his lips up to take just the head of Klaus's cock into his mouth, fits his tongue back in where it had been. Klaus sobs and moves, finally, hooks his heels over Dave's shoulders and starts shifting his hips between Dave's fingers, working him deeper everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn't take long after that for Klaus to come, shaking all over, pulsing onto Dave's tongue. Dave fucks him through it as best he can, follows Klaus's hips as they rock and push, until Klaus makes an exhausted noise and nudges Dave's head away. He lets Klaus slip out from between his lips, pulls his fingers carefully out of Klaus's body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus holds his arms open for Dave again, and Dave crawls up into them, settles his weight down over Klaus. Kisses his beautiful lips, over and over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You treat me so good," Klaus mumbles against Dave's mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"'Course I do," Dave says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus shuffles under Dave, spreads his thighs until Dave gets the hint and shifts so he's settled between them. Dave had almost completely forgotten about himself while he'd been busy with Klaus, but he's remembering now, and Klaus is so relaxed underneath him. So inviting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can take a little more," Klaus says, sliding his hands down to Dave's ass. "I want it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave knows better than to argue with that. He lifts his hips enough to get a hand on himself, and pushes inside Klaus one more time - as slow as he can stand it, mindful of the way he'd fucked Klaus earlier, the ache that must already be building in him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like that," Klaus says, soft in Dave's ear. "C'mon, baby."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave kisses Klaus's cheek and rocks into him, slow, slow, savoring every inch of the drag. He wraps an arm around Klaus's waist, pushes his hand up under his camisole to touch his skin. Klaus tucks his legs up on either side of Dave's hips, sits his heels on the backs of Dave's thighs, buries his nose in Dave's hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The way you look at me," he says, trailing his fingertips up and down Dave's spine. "You make me real."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave tucks his face into the curve of Klaus's neck, kisses him there. Fucks him until his toes curl, until he can't keep his mouth shut, the fronts of his teeth pressed to Klaus's collarbone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I wish," Klaus tells him, "I could show you how beautiful I feel."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I can see it," Dave says.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Couldn't miss it if I tried."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All for you," Klaus says, and Dave comes like that, the inevitable end of a long run-on sentence. He kisses Klaus through it, rocks his hips even when it starts to edge into being too much. Stays inside him for a long moment after it's over, holding on to every inch of closeness until Klaus's muscles tense around him and he has to pull away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't go far. Klaus hauls him back into his chest, pulls him on top of him and keeps kissing him, both hands cupped around his jaw to keep him close even when Klaus breaks away to catch his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm in love with you," Klaus says. "Christ. Not like I ever forget, but sometimes I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> remember, you know?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Dave says, "I get that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think I got come on my garter belt."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Honey, you got come on everything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus giggles, with his eye makeup all raccooned around, still flushed and sweaty with his curls spooling out in a halo on the pillow. He's so pretty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're so pretty," Dave says out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thanks," Klaus says. "I know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Was that okay, at the end? The sucking?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh my god. Yes, yes, it was - god, Dave, you can't say </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me, I'm tapped out for at least another half an hour."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why can't I say sucking? What's wrong with me saying sucking?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No sexy verbs. Don't test me, Katz."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave grins, kisses Klaus again. And then again, for good measure. "No worries, I don't think it’ll </span>
  <em>
    <span>come</span>
  </em>
  <span> up again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, that was a reach."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You made that exact joke to get me in here."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, and it was also terrible then. You're just easy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you complaining?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course not, you know I love a low bar."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave sits up enough to help Klaus out of the rest of his lingerie. The camisole has a crease in the back where Klaus hadn't smoothed it out before lying down, and the garter belt is looking … exactly how Klaus had predicted it would. Nothing irreparable, though, so Dave puts everything in a careful to-wash pile at the foot of the bed. He fishes the plug out of the sheets, puts it on top of the lingerie pile like the cherry on a sundae.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And as much as Dave liked the lace, the rough texture in contrast with the rest of Klaus's body, he missed all the bare skin underneath it. He curls up in their blankets and pulls Klaus against him, hands everywhere he can reach, and Klaus shuts his eyes and presses into the touch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave didn't get to do this enough when he was alive. He could have spent every second from Klaus's arrival onward doing nothing but this, and it still wouldn't have been enough.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucky him, he gets overtime.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Feeling good?” Dave asks him, cuddling closer, resting their foreheads together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Klaus nods. He tucks his arms between their chests, bent at the elbow, his fingertips at just the right height to trace along Dave’s collarbone. “I always do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave kisses him, spreads his hand out low on Klaus’s back, thumb rubbing the notches of his spine. “Anything else on the docket?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Honestly, I’m open to suggestions, but I was just gonna order delivery and make you spoon me while I ate it in bed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sounds decadent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The height of glamour, darling.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ordering delivery will require a phone call, Klaus putting on at least a robe to answer the door, but Dave doesn’t want to let go of him yet, so all of that will have to wait. Klaus doesn’t seem like he minds. His breathing has mostly evened out, he’s going sleepy in Dave’s arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re quiet together for a while, and then Klaus says, “You give me exactly what I need, baby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dave looks at what he can see of Klaus’s face from so close. The corner of his eye, the liner still smudged there. His cheek, his jaw, the curls of hair tucked behind his ear. “Glad I can give as good as I get.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes Klaus still plays it off when Dave tells him things like that, or jokes something self-deprecating, or, most worryingly, shutters down behind his eyes until Dave changes the subject. Those things don’t happen as often as they used to. More and more, he does this: he smiles, flushes all along the apples of his cheeks, closes the distance between them to kiss the corner of Dave’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Happy is as good a look on Klaus as his dress was. Doesn’t look half bad on Dave, either.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i can’t believe i chose to write something where i had to describe clothes. anyway talk to me about gender you nerds</p></blockquote></div></div>
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